Her heart beat a little harder in her chest as she straightened and stood. Padding down the hall in her sock feet, she could feel the grit and dust on her skin. Pushing her fingers through her hair, which she’d just taken out of a ponytail, Shay looked forward to washing it, too. The house was quiet except for some subtle instrumental music coming from the radio in the living room.
So many memories assailed her as she stood for a moment in that room. Some were of her mother cooking in the kitchen. Others, darker and unhappy, of her alcoholic father snapping and angry at her mother and herself. When she was alive, her mother was hardworking, kept the house, cooked, cleaned, and was constantly being verbally abused by her father. Shaking her head, Shay didn’t know how her mother had tolerated it. And in some ways, she wondered if her mother had died early to escape it all because she saw no other way out. Shay’s way out was to leave at eighteen and join the Marine Corps.
Walking quietly through the living room, she saw the bathroom door was open and heard the water running in the tub. Reese was crouched down by it, swirling fingers through the water to make sure it was the right temperature. Her heart swelled powerfully with love for him. Would her father ever have thought to draw water for his wife? No.
There was so much to like . . . love . . . about Reese. As she approached the bathroom, he lifted his head. She felt the tugging connection that was always between them, alive and yearning. And she saw appreciation for her in his narrowing green eyes. Beneath the light above, she saw his short hair gleam, still drying from his recent shower. Reese was continuing to gain back his lost weight. His face had filled out, and he was looking healthy, suntanned, and physically fit compared to when she met him months earlier. He didn’t look like a down-and-out military vet caught in the snare of PTSD.
If Shay had any doubts about her efforts to help struggling vets, all she had to do was look at Reese. Longing flowed through her as he slowly unwound and rose to his full height. She offered him a smile of thanks.
“This is such a wonderful gift.” She gestured to the tub. Already, the room was filling with warm humidity. Reese looked thoughtful. He had brought out a huge, fluffy yellow towel and set it nearby along with a washcloth and new bar of soap. There was so much to love about Reese. She might not have a world of experience in relationships, but Shay knew enough to appreciate the simple, important gestures between a man and woman.
“A well-deserved one,” Reese said, moving past her. He halted at the door. “Are you hungry? I was going to fix some breakfast food for us.”
Her stomach growled, reminding Shay that the last time she’d eaten was at lunch. She’d skipped dinner because she’d gotten caught up in last-minute instructions for the house crews. Everyone had worked right up to that eight o’clock deadline. “That sounds great.”
He nodded. “Take your time. I won’t start fixing it until you show up in the kitchen.”
*
Reese had pancakes and scrambled eggs for their late evening dinner. Shay sat at the table enjoying every bite of the food he’d prepared for them. She had washed her hair and it hung damply around her shoulders. It had felt good to climb into her yellow granny gown, her feet bare. Reese was used to seeing her in it and as tired as she was tonight, it was the perfect outfit to wear. The look in his eyes told her he wanted her. It was almost palpable as they ate in companionable silence. Max was curled up on his bed in the corner, sleeping. He had remained with Shay throughout the two days, lying near her feet, beneath her makeshift desk, always watchful.
“You’re as good a chef as Garret,” she teased Reese.
“I’m okay in the kitchen. At least you won’t die from what I cook.” His mouth crooked as he lifted his head.
“You two will make great husbands someday.” The words had slipped out before she could stop them. Instantly, she saw darkness come to Reese’s eyes. Damn! When would she learn to think first before she spoke? “I mean,” she stumbled, “you are both good men with so much to offer the right woman.”
“Garret strikes me as coming along in his PTSD to the point where he’s ready to re-engage with life,” Reese said, swirling the last bite of sourdough pancake through the maple syrup on his plate.
She heard the edge in his voice and felt tension move through Reese. How was she going to get him to overcome his fear of hurting her as he had his ex-wife? Shay didn’t know, but she was driven to do something that would break that log jam one way or another. Tonight, though, they were both exhausted and it wasn’t a good time to have that kind of conversation. “Garret is almost there,” she agreed, having cleaned her plate and pushed it aside. She picked up her cup of coffee. “I had a talk with him about it a week ago.”
“And?”
Shrugging, Shay sipped her coffee. “I told him he was at a point where he could leave and make his way back into the world. He agreed, but he wanted to stay here.”